


Sweet Relief

by helo572



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Moicy Week, Moicy Week 2019, Snowed In
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:34:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21779938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helo572/pseuds/helo572
Summary: Moira and Angela are snowed in while on a relief mission. Moira takes full advantage.
Relationships: Moira O'Deorain/Angela "Mercy" Ziegler
Comments: 6
Kudos: 43





	Sweet Relief

**Author's Note:**

> [happy moicy week!](https://moicydiscord.tumblr.com/post/188238516835/hello-everyone-the-moicy-discord-is-back-at-it) much love goes to tig and the moicy discord for organising.
> 
> i struggle to write more than 3 words these days, so this drabble is a combination of days 2, 3 and 4 (work/holiday, spring/winter and switzerland/ireland). hope you enjoy!

“Snowed  _ in _ ?”

Angela looks appalled. Offended, even. 

Moira barely stifles the laugh that escapes her mouth at the state of her; tousled hair peeking out from the corner of her pink beanie, white doctor’s coat smothered by a snow jacket from lost-and-found at least three sizes too big, and leg warmers doubling as mittens, pulled back enough for her to still swipe her fingers across her tablet.

“We can’t possibly be--”

Moira raises a hand, covered by fingerless black gloves, “We  _ are _ . And they did warn us, and again, after the power went out.” 

“Well,” Angela huffs, “are they sending out a rescue? Or supplies, at the very least? I’m not leaving while there are still patients in this hospital. And we’ve had to start rationing, they know this. And they also know it’s impossible to move some of these people. Elderly! Palliative! I just can’t believe--”

“Angela--”

“--they would let this happen--”

“ _ Angela _ \--”

“--a gross misuse of their authority, one they should never have in the first place! What do they know about running a hospital?”

“ _ Angela. _ ” A hand on her shoulder pauses her rant. Sighing, she meets Moira’s eyes. Moira goes on, gently, “This is record snowfall, a record winter too. Coldest in history. MeteoSwiss were very clear on the dangers.”

“Yes, yes, I know.” She looks down, to her tablet, which flashes briefly with a low battery notification but nothing much else. “It’s just frustrating.”

“You are doing all you can.” At Moira’s words, Angela gives in to a smile, resting her hand on top of hers. “And it’s quiet now, we have an hour to spare before rounds are due. Why don’t you… sit down? Relax.”

She  _ almost _ looks offended again. Almost. Moira, determined, squeezes her shoulder firmly, and holds her gaze firmer.

“Come on, angel,” she says, joining their hands and moving them down the corridor, into the innards of the hospital. 

Their generators could only power a few rooms, where all their patients were, and heat was easier to conserve further from the outer walls. Some exterior windows had blown, leaving some wards in freezing, subzero temperatures.

It was the third snowstorm to ravish central Switzerland this winter. An emergency situation had been declared halfway into the first storm, dispatching aid workers from all over the world to Switzerland and the other affected areas of Europe.

Which had culminated with the both of them snowed into a medium-sized hospital on the outskirts of Z ürich, their supplies dwindling well into the fifth day of the storm. It was personal for Angela, who was determined to help her country, and work for Moira, who was making sure Angela hadn’t bitten off more than she can chew.

Moira leads them back into the ward, to a row of unused beds, which has Angela groaning. “I’m not tired, Moira, I am  _ fine _ \--”

“Just,” insists Moira, tugging at their joined hands, “lay down with me for an hour.”

Angela’s eyes soften, and then she resigns herself, agreeing, “Okay, fine. Just before the rounds.” She was, of course, exhausted.

They settle together, Angela against Moira’s shoulder, Moira’s chin atop Angela’s head, one hand carding down her back, and the other tucked around her shoulders. It’s warm, for Angela to enjoy, at the very least.

Moira is simply happy to hold her close. Safe.

A snowstorm was not somewhere Angela needed to practice self-sacrifice. It was a perfect place, however, to pull Angela into her arms, and take full advantage of quiet moments like this.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading o/


End file.
